Our Sweet Escape
by moviebuffgirl
Summary: Anne Boleyn is the former Queen of England, while Cesare Borgia is the illegitimate son of the Pope. When these two people collide, hidden passions rise to the surface, and history will never be the same again. To be updated at least once a month.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: If you are expecting a historically and canonically accurate story/fanfic, I have to tell you right off the bat that "Our Sweet Escape" is neither of the two. I have written this story to fit my own purposes, and some of the events in "The Borgias" will be changed. But don't worry; I will do my best to keep the characters IC as possible. :) Enjoy.**

* * *

**Prologue**

Anne's face paled as she watched the richly garbed Duke of Sussex, Charles Brandon, make his way towards her. She had been expecting this moment since the miscarriage of her son, but that didn't make her feel better.

"Lady Anne Boleyn," Charles greeted, tilting his head forward slightly.

"Your Grace," Anne said evenly, fighting to keep her emotions under control. "What is His Majesty's will? Am I to be executed?"

Anne dared to hope, but she thought she detected a glimmer of sympathy on the Duke's face.

"The King has felt grievously injured by your despicable dalliances with several persons, especially your incestuous relationship with your brother, George."

George. The very mention of his name brought jolts of pain through her heart. Anne blinked, hoping that the Duke didn't notice that it had bothered her.

If he did he made no sign of it, for he pressed on. "After an agonizing debate, the King has decided to banish you from court and from England. You will be known only as Anne Boleyn, and will stay in Italy, under the care of Baron Bonadeo and his wife, Ursula Bonadeo."

Anne felt relief wash over her, and yet she could still feel the grief over her brother's passing. Why should she be spared if her brother had died for her?

"And what of my father?" she managed to choke out.

"Your father will retain his title and remain in England, as a reminder to the king to be never be taken in by the lofty praises of a nobleman." Charles didn't bother to hide his distaste; Anne knew that the Duke loathed the idea of letting her father go with so light a sentence.

But she was spared.. spared. As much as Anne wanted to stay and give her beloved Henry a son, she knew she was extremely lucky to have escaped the chopping block.

"Your daughter, Elizabeth, will remain under the King's care, but will be stripped of her title as Princess and will be known only as Lady Elizabeth." Charles looked at her, waiting for her reply.

"I am most grateful to His Majesty for the leniency and mercy he has shown me, despite all my sins," Anne replied humbly.

"You will leave tonight. A carriage will arrive to send you to the docks. I bid you a good day, my Lady." Charles doffed his cap and exited. He stopped outside the jail cell, stared at her for a few more moments, and then left.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"All hands on deck! Roll the sails and make ready for port!"

Anne stepped out onto the main deck of the ship and gazed out onto the horizon. After nearly two weeks at sea, she was finally here.

Italy.

The tall buildings of the Holy City loomed before her, and she noticed that it looked brighter and more cheerful than England. Anne silently chastised herself for thinking such thoughts, and for the millionth time tried to suppress the feeling of homesickness that threatened to spill.

"My Lady," Captain Bruckner said from behind her, his head bowed. "It has been an honor sending you here. The King may have forgotten all about you, but we certainly won't."

Touched, Anne smiled at the captain warmly. "You have been nothing but kind and understanding, Captain Bruckner. I shall never forget you as well."

The wooden plank dropped onto the concrete platform and the ship shuddered as it ground to a halt. Anne exhaled slowly and gathered her wits. Captain Bruckner helped her onto the plank and watched her descend. A small group had gathered at the pier, curious to see the so-called wanton ex-wife of the King of England.

As Anne stepped onto the pier, she heard Captain Bruckner direct the sailors as they brought down her trunks. The crowd watched her curiously, and she saw a few men ogle her openly. Anne threw her head back and looked back at them imperiously. She may have been exiled, but she was still Anne Boleyn. The queen known to have brought back life to an otherwise dull court and a queen who had been falsely accused of fornicating with her own brother.

Just as Anne was beginning to think Baron Bonadeo had forgotten to pick her up, the crowd parted and out stepped a tall, waifish woman with brilliant blue eyes and golden hair that reminded Anne of her favorite golden silk shawl.

"Anne Boleyn," the woman said, with a hint of a British accent. "I am Ursula Bonadeo."

"Madame," Anne said, doing her famous low curtsy. "It is an honor."

Ursula smiled. "No, the honor is all mine. It is a privilege to house the former Queen of England."

Anne gave Ursula a wan smile and looked over the woman's shoulder. "Where is the Baron?"

"Oh. He has some business matters to attend to. He sends his apologies," Ursula replied, her cheeks flushed.

Anne laughed lightly. "I understand, Baroness. Men always have pressing matters on their minds." Anne knew that Ursula had warmed towards her when she flashed a brilliant, yet genuine, smile.

"Indeed they do. Which is why I am happy to finally have someone to talk to," Ursula confessed. "I hope we become good friends, Anne."

"That is also my hope," Anne replied. Ursula smiled again and nodded to two attendants standing nearby. They immediately began carrying Anne's trunks to the carriage, which stood a few feet from the crowd. "Please excuse me, there is someone I need to say farewell to."

Ursula nodded and returned to the carriage. Anne walked towards Captain Bruckner, who smiled as she approached.

"Captain, thank you for everything you have done for me," Anne began. "And thank you for believing in my innocence."

Captain Bruckner bowed his head. "My lady, if there is anything else I could do for you…"

"There is. Please, would you give this to her… to my daughter?" Anne unhooked the silver crucifix from her neck. "I know I shall never see her again, and I only wish for her to have something to remember me by."

"I will, my lady." Captain Bruckner fell silent, but Anne understood.

"Farewell." Anne gave the captain one last look before turning away. Her heart pounded as she stepped inside the carriage and settled herself across Ursula Bonadeo. As the carriage jostled its way out of the pier, Anne stole one last look at the ship.

_Goodbye, Henry and Elizabeth. May God bless you both. _


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Cesare Borgia stifled a yawn. After hours of incessant chatter between the other cardinals, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into the arms of a wanton whore.

Unlike the rest of his colleagues, Cesare did not deny himself the pleasures of the flesh. His father, Pope Alexander VI, had fathered four children with his Spanish mistress, Vanozza de Cattannei, and was now in the company of Giulia de Farnese, a local beauty.

Cesare and his younger brother, Juan, had apparently inherited their father's zest for life. Unfortunately for Cesare, he was thrust into the world of the cardinals instead of the army, a life that was given to Juan, their father's favourite son.

Cesare barely noticed that the cardinals had begun leaving the room, and he realized the session had ended. He stood up slowly, running a hand down his chin, feeling the rough texture of his week-old stubble. His father was deeply engrossed with Cardinal Sforza, a man who belonged to the powerful Sforza family.

Cesare's younger sister, Lucrezia, was set to marry the cardinal's cousin, Giovanni Sforza, a man who was old enough to be her father. Cesare's lip curled at the thought of an older man touching his innocent sister, and yet the match was a crucial one.

The Borgia family needed as many allies as possible, for the French king had begun making plans to invade the country. The pope had immediately latched on to Cardinal Sforza's marriage proposal, but Cesare had his own reservations.

Cesare caught his father's eye and the latter nodded, dismissing Cardinal Sforza with a slight wave of his hand.

"What news?" Cesare asked his father softly, after kissing the holy hand.

"Sforza is keen on marrying your sister," Rodrigo replied, lifting his white frock slightly as he stood. "It seems things are already going in our favour. If your brother Juan decides to marry Sancia of Naples, then we will have a formidable army against Charles."

Cesare doubted Juan would fall for Sancia; his brother was very picky when it came to women. Just the other day he had seen the girl's portrait, and it had not impressed him. Juan would definitely turn the poor girl down, and if their father insisted on having one of his sons marry into the royal family of Naples, Joffre would be next, despite being only ten years old.

If _only _his father hadn't put him in the cloth...

"A thousand pardons, Your Holiness." A smartly dressed man walked up to them, holding a letter bearing the Tudor seal. "This just came from the British envoy. It concerns the matter of Anne Boleyn."

Rodrigo threw his son a meaningful glance. Father and son had heard of the scandal that rocked the British dynasty, when King Henry VIII unceremoniously banished his former queen, Anne Boleyn, to the Vatican. Apparently the king had taken a new bride just hours after Anne had left the country.

Rodrigo took the letter from the messenger and continued walking. He read the letter in silence, finally handing it to Cesare. The letter merely informed them that Anne Boleyn was now under the care of the Bonadeo family, and was set to be presented to the pope in a few days' time. It also spoke of a reminder; that Anne must not be allowed to leave the Vatican or send any letters.

Cesare folded the letter and handed it back to his father. "And what do they expect us to do? Keep her in a cell?"

"No, no," Rodrigo said, shaking his head solemnly. "The poor girl has been through enough. We must be gracious hosts and make her stay in the city as comfortable as possible."

"And is she to receive forgiveness for what she has done?"

"We shall see," Rodrigo said cryptically. "But first, we must attend to your sister's marriage to Giovanni Sforza. Once we have a Borgia in their family, we can turn our attention to the simple matter of an unfaithful British girl."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"The gown is beautiful, Ursula," Anne said, turning to the side to look at her reflection in the mirror. "You are too kind."

Ursula smiled, fingering the pendant around her neck. "I saw it and immediately thought of you. It brings out the colour of your hair."

Anne smiled but said nothing. Ursula was right; red _was_ her favourite colour, although Henry had once said that she looked beautiful in anything.

Henry...what was he doing now? Does his new queen carry his child?

Anne felt a sharp stab of pain and she gripped the skirt of her dress, willing the memories away. They still haunted her; her sister, Mary, whom she had banished mercilessly, her father who never glanced back at her as she passed by in the carriage that took her away from court, and her darling Elizabeth.

For all she knew, Elizabeth had been told of Anne's crimes and was now being raised to believe that her mother was a whore.

Anne looked up and saw Ursula staring at her with concern. "Anne? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just...I think the dress is tied to tightly," Anne lied. She would not let anyone see her vulnerable. Not even Ursula, who she had quickly considered as a good friend.

Ursula's expression changed, and she smiled. "You poor thing." As the other woman stepped behind her and began loosening the laces, Anne looked back at her reflection in the mirror.

Before her stood a confident young woman – Anne tilted her head a bit higher – who was once Queen of England. She hardly showed signs of weakness – save for the moments when she realized that she was going to lose everything and everyone she held dear – and she certainly wasn't going to start now.

* * *

The party was in full swing when Ursula and Anne arrived. Ursula's husband held his younger wife's arm tightly, although his eyes constantly wandered to their beautiful guest.

Unlike in England, there were no servants to announce their arrival, so the Bonadeos and Anne slipped into the throng of guests who were gathered around the dance floor. Apparently something scandalous had just occurred, and the rest were hissing behind their hands.

"...cardinal completely undermined the pope's authority!"

"...no difference, we all know she's his whore!"

Anne flinched; although she knew they weren't talking about her (yet), the word seemed branded in her head.

"Ursula, are we to stay long?" Anne whispered.

"Not if my dear husband doesn't want to," Ursula replied. "Do not worry, dear Anne. We won't be noticed."

The words were barely out of Ursula's mouth when a tall, handsome man walked up to them. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

Ursula suddenly looked flustered; she gave the man a deep curtsy. Anne slowly copied him, dipping slowly to the ground, her eyes never leaving the man's face. This seemed to amuse him, for he gave a low chuckle.

"And who do I have the honour of addressing?" he said, once Ursula and Anne had finished curtsying.

"Ursula Bonadeo, Your Eminence," Ursula replied. "And this is Anne Boleyn."

Recognition flashed through the cardinal's face. "Ah, the famous Anne Boleyn. Well, they certainly were right about one thing: your beauty is disarming."

"Thank you, Your Eminence," Anne replied softly.

"Call me Cesare."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"So you have met with the Boleyn girl," Rodrigo Borgia commented, raising a golden goblet of wine to his lips.

It was a few days after Lucrezia's wedding, and the papal palace seemed eerily quiet without her laughter wafting in from the gardens.

"Yes, Holy Father," Cesare replied. "She is indeed beautiful."

Cesare's brother, Juan, smirked as he popped a juicy grape into his mouth. "Is she? She warrants a second visit from a Borgia, then."

Cesare threw his younger brother a warning look, which Juan returned with a slight tilt of his head. This exchange did not pass unnoticed by Rodrigo, who was now becoming even more intrigued.

Anne Boleyn…the name seemed synonymous with beauty. He had been hearing the news about King Henry VIII's feverish obsession with the girl, an obsession that grew and grew until it was finally extinguished by the mere fact that Anne could not give him the son he needed.

Rodrigo considered the possibility of making Anne his second mistress, but he _had_ promised Giulia… Sighing, Rodrigo took another sip of wine and watched for any signs of hostility between his sons. Whatever slight animosity existed between Cesare and Juan was gone now; the older brother was finishing a chicken leg while Juan was toying with a shiny silver dagger.

Once they had finished, the pope and his sons left the room and headed their separate ways: Cesare to check if there was any message from Lucrezia, Juan to the armory, and Rodrigo to his chambers.

As soon as he entered his bed chambers, the sweet fragrance of lavender hit Rodrigo's nostrils. Giulia Farnese sat on a loveseat in all her glory, the sunlight making her hair appear like it had been woven from strands of red silk. Rodrigo suppressed the sudden urge to make love to her; instead, he gave a soft grunt and moved over to the window.

"The Boleyn girl has been sending the city in an uproar," Giulia murmured softly. It was only when she had rested her head on his back that he realized that she was standing behind him. "I heard she has become fond of walking among the common people."

"So she's trying to show penance for her sins," Rodrigo said, gazing out onto the street below. "As well she should."

"They say her beauty is lovely to behold," Giulia continued, speaking more to herself now. "Even more than mine."

Rodrigo turned sharply to face her, and he saw the small petulant smile he loved so much plastered on her face. "You will always be the most beautiful woman in the world, Giulia Farnese. A true Beauty that will never corrode with time."

Giulia sighed happily, placing her head against his chest. "And I assure you, Holy Father, a Beauty who shall remain forever yours, body and soul."

The nearness of their bodies caused a small shiver through Rodrigo's body. Giulia seemed to sense this, for she lifted her head and looked at him lovingly, finally filling the space between their lips to kiss him.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Anne took a deep breath and steadied herself. It had been barely a week since she had stepped onto Vatican soil and she was now set to face the Pope. She knew he was at his daughter's wedding; the party where she had met the charming Cesare Borgia.

Anne knew it was too soon for her to start thinking about another man, but she found herself thinking about Cesare a little too often. It felt like Henry Tudor all over again.

"Anne?"

Anne turned to find Baron Bonadeo standing behind her, his eyes taking in her appearance hungrily. Anne felt herself stiffen; she knew that look all too well, and she did not like the idea that her host was lusting after her.

"Baron," she said curtly, dipping into a polite curtsy. "Your wife is not here."

"I know," the older man said breathlessly. "Anne, Anne…"

Anne felt a scream building up in her throat. She inwardly squirmed at the thought of this, this_ thing_ that threatened to happen.

No, she would not allow him to touch her.

Just as Anne felt the Baron's fingers touch the exposed skin of her neck, a harried-looking servant entered the room.

"My – my lord," he wheezed.

The Baron quickly snapped upright, trying hard to cover the fluster that had spread across his face. Anne kept herself as still as possible, her face betraying not an inch of the relief she now felt.

"What is it?" Baron Bonadeo asked sharply. His tone made it clear he was displeased, a fact that quickly registered with the servant, who backed away a few steps.

"Juan Borgia, my lord," he said, and the Baron seemed to understand. "He wishes to speak to the Lady Anne."

Baron Bonadeo whipped his head towards Anne, who nodded. Without daring to look at the Baron, Anne swept out of the room, her skirt rustling behind her.

The servant led her to the garden, where she saw a brown-haired man examining the pigeons. The servant cleared his throat, and announced in a crisp, clear voice: "Lady Anne Boleyn, Lord Borgia."

Juan Borgia was nothing like his older brother Cesare. While Cesare exuded a feeling of dark intensity, Juan seemed rather…mischievous and arrogant. His eyes twinkled as he took in Anne's appearance, and he seemed to like what he saw.

"Lady Anne," Juan greeted in a drawling voice. He bent low and ran his lips lightly over her hand, while she curtsied.

"My lord Borgia," she replied, her eyes on the ground. "What can I do for you?"

"My father sent for you, did he not?" Juan said, smiling slowly as she rose.

Anne nodded.

"Well I am here on behalf of the Holy Father, to escort you to the Papal Palace," Juan finished graciously.

"You will be my escort?" Anne said, a smile forming on the corners of her mouth. Although this was earlier than she had expected, it gave her an excuse to leave the lustful Baron alone. She only hoped she could send word to Ursula, who was supposed to come with her.

Juan tilted his head, still smiling.

"I shall inform the Baron, then." Anne made a move to turn away from Juan, when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist. She twisted her head slightly to look at him, only to find his face mere inches from hers.

"The Baron knows you are going to visit the Holy Father. I suppose he need not be told." Juan nodded to someone – presumably the servant – and led Anne to the horses that were tethered outside the Bonadeo estate.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for the rather short chapters; I find it easier to tell some stories in short bursts. So anyway, if you feel compelled to review, react, or comment, feel free to do so. Although Micheletto doesn't like rude anonymous reviews...**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The ride to the papal palace was uneventful; Juan kept asking her questions about her past life in England, especially her marriage with the king. It turned out that they had once asked for Henry's assistance with the impeding war with the French king, which Henry had ignored due to his ardent pursuit of her.

"Now my father and I know the reason," Juan said, looking at her pointedly.

Anne blushed. "I apologize if I became such a nuisance for you and the Holy Father."

Juan shook his head and grinned. "Please, no more apologies. We understand what it feels like to be caught in the throes of passion."

"You are too kind," Anne commented, keeping her grip on her horse's rein tight. "But I suppose as the Gonfaloniere of the Papal Army, you have to be both diplomatic and fierce."

"Yes, I suppose," Juan agreed. "But I believe in crushing the enemy instead of wasting time talking about peace."

_He reminds me of Henry_, Anne thought sullenly. Her face must have reflected some of her distaste, for Juan quickly assured her that she need not trouble her pretty head with such stories. Men, he said, were there to fight battles and make sure that their women were well-protected and cared for.

_But I'm not _your_ woman_, Anne wanted to say, but stopped herself just in time. Her once rash attitude had nearly landed her on the chopping block, and she did not want to risk being excommunicated by antagonizing the pope's son.

The papal palace was large and grand, and despite herself Anne was impressed. She had only seen the place at night, during Lucrezia's wedding reception, but the daylight seemed to lend the place a certain allure.

Marble was the main theme of the structure, and the statues of saints that lined the walls were expertly done. Juan had helped Anne of her horse, an act that she thanked with a sweet smile. Juan's face brightened at that, and he returned it with his signature rakish grin.

Juan and Anne made their way down the main hallway, and as they passed Anne noticed several cardinals, all wearing rich red cloaks of fine cloth, cast a curious eye towards her.

Doubtless they had heard of her and her misdeeds back in England, but Anne refused to cower at their relenting stares. Instead, she raised her chin a little bit higher as she walked, aware that she appeared haughty and unflinching.

Juan finally paused in front of a pair of tall doors painted with saintly images, of angels in prayer and disciples kneeling in fervent prayer. Two sentries stood watch, and when one of them saw Anne, he opened the door without further ado.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Cesare pulled off the dusty travelling cloak he was wearing and handed it to one of his aides. Micheletto, Cesare's right-hand man, followed closely behind him.

Cesare had just visited one of the parishes under his care, and was now longing for a cool bath to soothe his weary limbs. As he made his way to his chambers, Cesare caught the distinct sound of Juan's laugh, followed by a woman's amused chuckle.

Curious, Cesare turned on his heel and sought out the source of the noise. To his surprise, the laughter was coming from his father's private chambers. Without hesitating, Cesare pushed open the double doors and stepped inside.

The first person he saw was Juan, all decked in his Gonfaloniere finery. His brother was in the act of sipping wine from a gold goblet, but he set his cup down and gave Cesare a sly grin. Beside him sat their father, Rodrigo, who was covering his mouth in an attempt to hide a smile.

And there, sitting beside the Pope, was Anne.

Cesare knew it was her for he seemed to have seared her face into his memory. Even with her back turned away from him, he could tell it was her by the way her ebony hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders, and how her delicate fingers cupped her chin.

Anne slowly turned towards him, and for a brief moment their eyes met. Anne gave him a subtle smile before leaning back against her chair.

"Ah, Cesare," Rodrigo greeted, and Cesare automatically made his way to his father, kissing the Holy Hand respectfully. "Your visit was fruitful, I trust?"

"Yes, Holy Father," Cesare replied. He could sense Anne a few inches away from him; he knew that he only had to reach over to touch her. How often had he dreamed of taking her in his arms? Ever since he had spotted Anne at his sister's wedding reception, he only had eyes for her.

"Join us, brother," Juan invited. "We were just discussing the frivolities that could be found in the English court. Anne has been very enlightening about the subject."

Cesare glanced at Anne as he sat down between her and Juan. She was nibbling on a small cake slice, and Cesare couldn't help but watch the way her lips move.

_I wonder what it would feel like to kiss those lips_, Cesare thought.

* * *

Juan watched his brother ogle Anne with a growing sense of jealousy. The moment he had set eyes on Anne Boleyn that very morning, he had become completely besotted with her. All his thoughts of Sancia of Naples and all the damned ladies his father had suggested to be his bride completely flew out of his head.

Juan wanted _her_, the former Queen of England. He didn't care that she was disgraced, and it didn't matter if she had nothing to her name. He ached for her, and the time he had spent talking to her told him she was more than a pretty face.

Fuckable, yes, but intelligent, too. Juan had never met any noblewoman like her. The way she talked about her former royal husband was polite, but Juan could detect a hint of sadness.

She had truly loved him, that much was clear.

_The fool_, Juan thought, drinking the last of his wine. _But his mistake will be my gain. You will be my wife, Anne Boleyn, even if I have to fight my own brother to get you._


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"The food was delicious, Your Holiness," Anne replied softly as she and Rodrigo Borgia walked down the hallway. "I especially loved the almond cakes. They are exquisite. I used to think that cinnamon tarts were delicious, but you have proved me wrong."

Rodrigo chuckled. "Then you shall have all the almond cakes you want, my dear. I shall have a box sent to you every day."

Anne smiled. Rodrigo reminded her strongly of her father, Thomas. _But he gave you up_, a small voice at the back of her mind said. _He went away from the Tower and never looked back_.

Anne pushed the thought away and smiled again. "Your Holiness is too kind. What have I done to deserve such kindness?"

"We have heard of your misfortune in England," Rodrigo began, and Anne fought to maintain a passive expression on her face. "And we wish that you have a chance at a new life...a better life."

"Your Holiness gives me more than I deserve," Anne whispered, her eyes dropping to the floor. The two stopped, and Anne raised the holy hand to her lips and kissed it. "I will forever be in your debt."

"No more tears, my dear," Rodrigo said soothingly. "Your new life has no room for such trivial matters. Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Anne Boleyn."

Anne dipped into a curtsy. "Thank you for having me, Your Holiness."

Rodrigo nodded and watched as Anne made her way down the hallway, finally disappearing beyond the archway.

"Is it true?"

Rodrigo turned to find his son, Cesare, standing a few feet from him. "What is?"

"That you plan to have Juan marry Anne?" Cesare walked slowly towards him, his hands clasped behind his back. "I thought you were looking for more...suitable brides. Anne Boleyn has no family wealth and no connections, only the fact that she was once a Queen of England."

"Indeed." Rodrigo turned on his heel and walked back to his chambers, Cesare keeping a respectful distance from him. "But you must admit, while Anne may not have the connections we wish her to have, your sister's marriage and Joffre's imminent marriage to Sancia of Naples would be more than enough."

"It will never be enough to defeat Charles," Cesare insisted. "Unless..."

Rodrigo paused, looking at his oldest son over his shoulder. Cesare was silent, thinking. Rodrigo knew Cesare would learn the intricacies of his plan soon; he certainly had an analytical mind for such matters.

"You wish to use Anne to convince the king to call off the attack," Cesare finally said.

Anne had spent time in the French court during her youth, and was reported to have grown close with the queen – and essentially, the king. While Cesare did not like the idea of having Anne marry his brother and using her as a pawn in their schemes, he could not help but marvel at his father's ideas.

"Yes," Rodrigo admitted, evidently pleased that Cesare had caught on quickly. "Would that not be a better way to solve our problems with Charles?"


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Anne craned her neck to see over the crowd of people who had gathered for the wedding. She found it amusing how fast the Borgias found brides and grooms for their children; it seemed like only a few months had passed since Lucrezia's wedding, and now the youngest Borgia, Joffre, was being married to a woman older than him.

_I wonder what their wedding night will be like_, Anne thought, finally glimpsing the Italian bride as she made her way past the place where Anne and Ursula stood.

Anne knew it was improper to think of such thoughts during a wedding, but it seemed as if the rest of the guests had the same idea in their minds. Beside her, Ursula bowed her head and said a few silent prayers.

As usual, the Baron was not with them, but Anne had seen him last night as he bent over her and trailed several kisses down her arm. Anne had pretended to be asleep, but she was in fact steeling herself just in case the man tried to progress to something more.

"Excuse me my lady." A soldier pushed his way through the crowd and gestured to Anne. "Your presence is requested immediately."

Anne glanced at Ursula, who smiled and gave a slight nod. Anne reached over and squeezed Ursula's hand. "I'll be back in a moment," she said reassuringly.

Anne then turned and followed the soldier, and the two wended their way through the crowd until they reached the very front of the cathedral.

The Pope was sitting on the chair in the middle of the dais, with Cesare and Juan on his left and right side, respectively.

"Lady Anne," Juan greeted, taking her hand in his. "I thought you would have a much better view from here. A lovely woman such as yourself should not be left alone among the masses."

"I was with the Lady Ursula Bonadeo," Anne replied, smiling at him. "I do hope you will not let her stay there as well."

Juan tilted his head, as if considering it. Finally he nodded to the soldier, who went back among the crowd to retrieve Ursula. While waiting for her friend to arrive, Anne watched the ceremony unfold. Sancia was around eighteen, ten years older than her betrothed.

The girl was stunning, with her dark hair and tan skin. Anne knew, based on the gossip she overheard from the servants in the Bonadeo household, that Juan had refused the girl based on a horrendous portrait that had been made of her.

The painter clearly did not do Sancia justice, and Anne wondered if Juan was regretting his decision now. Anne could sense someone staring at her, and her gaze turned to the other end of the dais. Cesare was in his cardinal robes, and his eyes were fixed on her face.

The two maintained their eye contact for some time, even as the Pope begun the wedding rites. Cesare moved forward every now and then to perform a certain office, but once he resumed his place he continued looking at her, a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

Anne felt her heart beat quicken, reminding her of her own giddiness when Henry was pursuing her. Unlike Henry, however, Cesare was no king who could order her beheading without a second thought. But he was a cardinal, a man who had sworn off the pleasures of the flesh.

Cesare wasn't like the other cardinals however, for Anne knew that he had inherited his father's appetite for women. The thought of seeing Cesare in his naked glory brought a flush to Anne's cheeks, and she was the first to break off their constant eye contact.

As the wedding ceremony went on, Anne was acutely aware of Cesare's gaze on her own, which intensified as Juan focused his attention on her.

_God be good_, Anne thought, feeling slightly flustered. _I am but a Boleyn. How can I bear to be the focus of two men, and two Borgias at the very most?_


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Anne sat on one of the concrete benches in the papal gardens. Just yesterday the Holy Father had Anne taken from the Bonadeo household, saying that she was to live in the papal palace from now on. At first the Baron had resisted, saying that Henry himself had given Anne as his ward.

"I'm afraid the king had given up his rights once he divorced Anne," Juan had said imperiously. "The Holy Father will be more than willing to take her under his wing. You need not concern yourself over her welfare any longer, Baron Bonadeo."

And that had been the end of it. Anne and Ursula said their tearful farewells – while the papal palace was only a few blocks from the Bonadeo estate, it seemed like a world away – and Anne had left with Juan Borgia.

Now she was spending her afternoon in the garden, sewing. She had no idea what the Borgia women did whenever they were bored, and so Anne had decided to stick to her usual activities.

"Lady Anne."

Cesare walked up to her, a lock of his curly hair covering his left eye. He studied her entire appearance, liking what he saw.

"Your Eminence." Anne stood and curtsied.

"Is this how you spend most of your time, my lady?" Cesare circled Anne, who barely concealed a knowing smile. "Sewing?"

"Yes, Your Eminence. But if I may be frank, it was never my favorite activity."

Cesare raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh? And what would your favorite activity be?"

"Dancing."

"That is my sister's favorite as well," Cesare admitted. He looked off to one side, as if remembering a fond memory. "What is your favorite dance, then?"

"Anything that has a strong, passionate beat," Anne answered. She felt a flush creep into her cheeks, and she wondered if she shouldn't have said the word "passionate." Cesare must have picked up on her embarrassment, for he chuckled lightly.

"A passionate dancer. I would like to see you dance, Lady Anne." Cesare offered her his hand and she took it, noting that his palm was slightly rough. How she liked the feel of his hands on her skin.

Cesare led her into a large room, which featured several paintings of previous popes and cardinals. Anne looked at Cesare curiously, wondering why he had brought her here. Her question was answered a few seconds later.

Cesare placed his right hand on Anne's waist, while he took her left hand in his.

"Now, Lady Anne, would you give me the honor of a dance?" Cesare asked her.

"I would be honored, Your Eminence."

Cesare smiled slowly. "Please, Anne. I told you to call me Cesare."

"As you wish…Cesare."

The two fell silent at this point, becoming too wrapped up in the moment to notice that they were being watched. As Cesare and Anne swept their way across the room, Juan glowered from the hallway. He had spotted his brother lead Anne inside and had stopped to see what Cesare had planned.

Juan watched as his brother stopped and bent down to kiss Anne. She did not protest; rather, she returned Cesare's kiss with such... longing. Jealousy ripped at Juan's body, and he felt like charging into the room and tearing his brother away from Anne.

_She is_ mine, Juan thought, his chest heaving. _You will see, Cesare. Anne will be _my_ wife_, _she will bear _my _children, and she will gasp _my_ name as I make love to her. I will enjoy making you privy to all our secrets, brother. Oh I will enjoy that immensely._


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_One month later..._

Anne stood in front of the Holy Father, hardly daring to believe her ears. "Marriage?"

"Yes, my dear. I am offering your hand in marriage to my beloved son," Rodrigo said, smiling over the rim of his golden goblet. "I apologize it has taken me this long to tell you, but with Charles' imminent war and my daughter's eventual visit, I have had a lot of things to attend to."

"You do not have to apologize, Holy Father." Anne dipped her head low. Her thoughts were buzzing, and all of them were protesting against the pope's offer.

_He is not my father to give me away to whoever he chooses_, she thought fiercely. I_ am in control of my own destiny now._

But Anne knew that that was not the case. She owed everything she had to the Borgias: from clearing her name – at least in Italy – to the lovely dresses that she wore every day.

She also owed one of them her heart.

Cesare.

Anne never believed that she would love again, especially after what Henry had done to her. But Cesare had easily and quickly filled the void in her heart, and had even unknowingly planted a seed within her.

Anne was pregnant with Cesare's child, an idea that both delighted and terrified her. This marriage proposal changed everything – what if her would-be husband found out? Could she refuse?

"Anne?" the pope's voice broke through Anne's thoughts and she looked at him.

"Yes, Holy Father?"

"Do you accept?"

Anne smiled coyly, although at the moment she felt anything but coy. "Do I have a choice, Your Holiness?"

Rodrigo chuckled. "You do. But of course it would be preferable if you accepted."

Anne hesitated. Could she really do this to herself and to Cesare?

Before Anne could reply, Cesare walked in, his red cardinal robes sweeping the floor. "Holy Father."

"Ah, Cesare, you're just in time." Rodrigo held his hand out, and Cesare dutifully kissed it. "Dear Anne was just about to give her reply to our marriage proposal."

Cesare's eyes rested on Anne's. "And did you?"

_Not if you don't want me to_, Anne wanted to say. She smiled at him, but her smile vanished as Cesare merely raised an eyebrow.

There was something in the way Cesare looked at her that made her falter. His eyes, which were once full of warmth and love, were now black and lifeless. It was as if she didn't matter – to him, anyway.

_I am pregnant with your child!_ Anne screamed inwardly. _Will you not fight for me?_

"It is a perfect match," Cesare assured her, his tone flat. He then turned his head away from her, as if the topic at hand was irrelevant.

_Have you cast me aside as well?_ Anne thought, as pain flicked through her. _Were you just another Henry who wanted to use my body and rob me of my soul? Am I not to be loved for who I am?_

"Then…" Anne paused, looking at Cesare to see his reaction. "I accept."

* * *

"I accept."

And it was done.

Anne was no longer free, would no longer be his.

Cesare knew he looked cold and unfeeling on the outside, but inside he was screaming. Images of him snatching Anne away and starting a new life somewhere in Europe flashed through his mind, but he shoved them all away.

If Anne did not marry, then the pope would make sure to see her ruined.

"She owes us everything," Juan's voice drifted into Cesare's head. "If she does not accept, then Father will personally see to it that she is excommunicated. But I must say, a marriage is far better than to face the wrath of the church."

Cesare knew why Juan told him of their father's plans: his brother wanted to make sure that he made the necessary steps to push Anne to accept the marriage proposal.

And Cesare did.

_And I may regret this for the rest of my life_, Cesare thought miserably as he saw Juan emerge from behind the red velvet curtains to hold Anne's hand. _But I'd rather see her married to my brother than to see her shunned by the entire world. She has endured enough._


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Anne browsed through the different bolts of cloth that were being sold in the marketplace. Behind her stood her usual bodyguards (three soldiers from the Papal Army), watching her every move.

Juan Borgia was certainly a devoted fiancé, sending her gifts, making sure that she was protected at all times, and...visiting her every night.

Although they had only been engaged for a week, Juan clearly thought he had the right to claim Anne as his own. It suited Anne just fine; she had been worried that she would need to explain her "sudden" pregnancy, but now it was easy for her to claim that the child that slowly grew within her belly was Juan's.

But the child's true father sat inside the papal palace, convening over the matter of Giovanni Sforza's appalling treatment of Lucrezia Borgia.

Anne did not know what punishment the Pope had planned for the man, but after hearing Lucrezia's statement, she hoped that Rodrigo would opt for a swift death.

She knew if Cesare had his way, Giovanni Sforza would experience an excruciating death, even if he was part of the prestigious Sforza clan.

"Anne!" Ursula Bonadeo rushed towards the future wife of the Gonfaloniere and threw her arms around Anne. "I have missed you!"

"As I you, dear Ursula," Anne replied, returning Ursula's hug. "I apologize if I haven't visited you lately."

"It's alright," Ursula assured her. "I know how busy you must be, with a wedding to plan and all."

Anne smiled. It was then when she noticed the Baron watching her from a few feet away. His expression chilled Anne to the very bone; it was a mixture of lust, longing, anger, and jealousy.

"Ursula, you must forgive me," Anne said quickly. "I forgot that I was supposed to discuss the seating arrangements with Vanozza."

Ursula nodded and hugged Anne again. "Of course. I'll see you soon?"

"Of course." Anne smiled at her friend warmly, cast a hurried glance towards the Baron, and walked away. Even as she made her way towards the papal palace, she could feel the Baron's eyes on her.

The three soldiers followed Anne into the palace, leaving only when they saw their commander approach his fiancée.

"Anne, my love," Juan called, grasping Anne's chin and kissing her deeply. "Have you found what you were looking for in the market?"

"No," Anne answered, slightly breathless from Juan's kiss. "I did see the Baron and Ursula Bonadeo, however."

"Ah yes, the Baron." Juan frowned slightly. He remembered the way the Baron had looked at Anne the day she was summoned to the papal palace for the first time. Juan didn't like the way the Baron's eyes swept lustily over Anne's body then, and the very idea that the Baron was ogling his fiancée infuriated him.

"I was supposed to meet your mother with regards to the seating arrangements," Anne continued. Juan could see that she was trying to conceal her flustered countenance, which only meant that she had noticed the Baron leering at her.

Juan tried his best to conceal his temper from Anne, not wanting her to see just how temperamental he could be. Instead he led her down the hallway, keeping an arm around her waist.

As they walked, Anne contemplated whether to tell Juan about the Baron. She was genuinely scared of what the Baron could do to her, even though she was set to marry the leader of the papal army.

In truth, Anne liked Juan. He was rather naughty, mischievous, light-hearted, and not to mention rather good in bed. Anne didn't mind being engaged to him – although she wondered if her sentiments would change once she was _married_ to him.

But he certainly wasn't Cesare.

* * *

Juan dropped Anne off in her chambers, saying that he would come for her so that they could go to Vanozza's house together. Anne nodded, lying down on her bed to take a short nap.

Juan looked at her for a moment, before closing the door to her room. He then strode purposefully down the hallway, arriving just outside the cardinals' meeting room a few minutes before the trial for Giovanni Sforza ended.

Cesare was one of the last cardinals to come out, and he had a satisfied smirk on his face. This disappeared when he spotted Juan, leaning against one of the nearby pillars. "Juan."

"Cesare, we need to talk."

"About what?" Cesare swept down the hallway. Cesare's right hand man, Micheletto, fell into step behind Cesare.

"About Baron Bonadeo."

Cesare stopped abruptly. Anne had mentioned the Baron's obvious lust for her during one of their illicit meetings. Cesare had threatened to kill the Baron if he dared lay a finger on Anne. She had restrained him then, saying a cardinal should not make his robes redder than they already were.

"What of him?" Cesare turned and faced his brother.

"I want him dead."

Cesare chuckled bitterly. "Why come to me? Certainly you have many soldiers at your command."

"Because this is personal. Do not deny you have feelings for my fiancée, brother. I know you wish to see any man who lusts after her dead. Including me." Juan smirked, as if daring Cesare to kill him.

"Has he touched her?" Cesare's voice was strained.

Juan raised an eyebrow. "Does he have to touch her before you act?"


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

_London, England_

The Queen was dead.

Henry's beloved Jane Seymour had died giving birth to the male heir he had so longed for, leaving the king a defeated man. He spent his days in the tomb where his beloved queen lay, refusing to see any visitors.

But the news that had just arrived from the Vatican seemed too important to ignore. After much deliberation, it was decided that Charles Brandon would deliver the news to the King. After all, he was the least likely person the King would lose his temper at, being his closest friend and confidante.

Charles pushed the door to the tomb open, noting that the tray of food he had sent in a few hours ago still wasn't touched. Henry was sitting a few feet away from the body of the Queen, which was set to be buried tomorrow.

"Why have you come, Charles?" Henry asked hoarsely. "I told you was not in the mood to deal with any reports. Let the lords handle it."

"It is not a report, Your Majesty," Charles began. "It is news. Of Anne."

Henry's head snapped up and a deep frown formed on his face. "I do not wish to hear news of my unfaithful wife beside the body of my one true Queen. Leave!"

"She has married," Charles said at the same time.

At these words, Henry's eyes widened. "Married? To whom? Which Italian nobleman has she cuckolded into marrying her?"

"Juan Borgia, Your Majesty."

"The present Gonfaloniere of the papal army?" Henry scowled. "I should have had her exiled to some remote island, not to the papal city!"

Charles remained silent while Henry brooded. They both knew how much Henry grieved over the unfaithfulness of Anne Boleyn, and how much Henry had loved her - truly loved her. Charles wondered if Henry would dare visit his former wife or even acknowledge her marriage.

"Send no reply," Henry finally said. "It is what the little bitch wants: to remind me that while she has a husband, my Queen is dead. I will not give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her marriage. She is nothing to me."

But as the doors closed behind Charles, Henry put his head in his hands and wept.

* * *

**Author's Note: As per request for one of my lovely anonymous reviewers. :) Thanks for reading this even though it's really short! :D**


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Anne ran a hand down her now growing belly. Cesare's child was strong, and Anne could feel the baby kick at her belly every so often. She smiled and sipped the tonic one of the midwives had given her.

"It will be a boy, my lady," she had said, "And this tonic will help him grow strong. Like his father."

Anne rested her head against a pillow, her legs slightly bent. Her pregnancy was reaching full term now, and she could no longer entertain her husband at night. Juan had rectified his predicament by visiting whorehouses, and Anne had given her consent. After all, the last time she railed at her husband for inviting whores into his bed, her head had nearly ended up at the chopping block.

"Anne?" Lucrezia peeked inside her room and smiled. "May I come in, dear sister?"

"Of course, Lucrezia." Anne made a move to stand, but her body felt so heavy that she ended up lying down. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," Lucrezia replied. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Lucrezia. Thank you." Anne smiled fondly at Lucrezia, who was also expecting a child - from an unknown father - soon. But unlike Anne, Lucrezia's belly was still slightly flat.

Lucrezia sat primly on the chair close to Anne. "Where is my brother?"

"I suppose he is still preoccupied with his plans to attack the French king's forces," Anne replied.

"Men," Lucrezia sighed. "When they're not trying to take care of us, they're fighting. It gets tiresome, doesn't it?"

"It's one of the effects of being the wife of the Gonfaloniere," Anne quipped, and Lucrezia chuckled.

"True. But if you weren't married to my brother, you wouldn't have to deal with any of it, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't. But I am, so I must learn to deal with it." Anne felt the baby kick her belly and she rested her hand on her stomach. "Even my child agrees with me."

"Your son will inherit the Borgia wealth," Lucrezia commented, with a hint of jealousy. "Do you know what you will name him?"

"No, not yet. Your brother insists that we name our son after him, however."

"Then I must prepare for the arrival of another Juan," Lucrezia giggled. "But oh, how I wish my nephew be more like Cesare. Juan is far too mischievous for my taste."

At the mention of Cesare, Anne imagined a little boy that had her eyes and Cesare's dark curls. She smiled.

"Oh yes. How I wish that."


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Juan watched his wife make her way through the crowd, his eyes sweeping down her entire body. Anne had quickly returned to her original physique a few weeks after she had given birth, which made her more desirable than ever before.

But Juan wasn't the only one watching Anne; Cesare was tracking her progress through the hall as well. The Borgias had thrown a party to celebrate the birth of Juan Georgio Borgia, the oldest grandchild of the Pope and the one who would one day inherit the wealth of the Borgia family.

The fortunate child was in the arms of his grandfather's mistress, Giulia Farnese, while his mother chatted with the guests. His father, on the other hand, was commanding the wine table, consuming goblet after goblet of the rich dark liquid.

Cesare shook his head; his brother needed to have a clear head to deal with the guests. As his eyes scanned the crowd, often resting on his sister-in-law, Micheletto slipped in the room and stood beside the cardinal.

"The Bonadeos have arrived, Your Eminence," Micheletto said in a low voice.

"Keep an eye on the Baron," Cesare instructed. "If he tries to approach Anne, you know what to do."

Micheletto nodded and disappeared into the crowd. If there was one thing Cesare liked in Micheletto, it was his ability to pass through a crowd unseen. It was as if he possessed the power of invisibility.

"Come here, my love," Cesare heard Anne coo, taking the baby from Giulia. "Let us go see your father."

Anne made her way past her guests, smiling at the different noblemen that had gathered for the baptism of her child. Cesare found it ironic that Anne was easily able to birth a son to a Borgia, while she failed to produce one for a Tudor.

That fact alone spoke volumes of Anne's former husband, but Cesare was content to leave that unsaid. He had made sure to send a report of Anne's marriage to the King of England, just to rub it in. Perhaps he would even send an announcement that Anne had given birth to a boy. Cesare smirked at the thought.

Now Cesare's gaze followed Anne as she made her way to his brother. Even from his position, Cesare saw that the baby had tufts of black hair and had inherited his mother's creamy skin.

As Anne reached Juan, the Gonfaloniere set his goblet down and took the child in his arms. Despite having consumed a lot of wine, he managed to keep a firm hold on little Juan Georgio.

Juan resumed his seat, doting over his firstborn, and Anne continued her role as generous hostess. It was then when she reached Cesare, who ducked his head in greeting. "Anne."

"Cesare."

To Cesare's surprise, Anne ran her hand down his arm. "Take me," she whispered softly so that no one could hear.

_Take me_. The two words they would say to each other as a sign that they were to meet secretly.

Before Cesare could say anything else, Anne turned on her heel and was lost in the crowd.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

The night was dark, but Anne wasn't afraid. She had seen many nights like this when she and Cesare had shared many illicit moments together.

But that was before her marriage to Juan.

Despite Cesare's cold treatment of her, Anne could not quench her desire for him. Indeed, it seemed to have grown stronger by the day. The only thing that kept her from continuing her secret meetings with him was the child that grew in her belly.

Now that her son was born, however, Anne was determined to continue seeing Cesare. Anne was unsure what she really felt for him: desire, lust, or perhaps true love?

Whatever it was, Anne did not care. All she knew was that she had to see him, otherwise she would go mad.

The cold night air whipped her hair around her face, and she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. Luckily Juan had slipped into a drunken stupor due to the wine he had consumed during the party, making it easier for her to leave the warmth of their bed and slip out into the night. Before leaving, Anne had visited the crib where her beloved son lay. She had kissed the top of his head, feeling the softness of his black hair against her face.

Anne wondered if Henry had only waited, he would have had the son he desired.

_No_, she thought. _Juan Georgio is from Cesare's seed. If I had been Henry's queen longer, I may have lost my head. _

Anne heard the soft crunch of boots against gravel and she smiled.

_That must be Cesare_, she thought, and she stepped out of her hiding place, lowering her hood at the same time.

But it wasn't Cesare in front of her.

It was the Baron.

Anne's eyes widened, but before she had the chance to scream, the Baron clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her back into the shadows. Anne struggled, but the Baron was too strong for her. She could hear him fumble at his pants, obviously eager to free his aching loins.

_Someone help me_, Anne thought wildly, slapping away the Baron's hand as he slid it between her thighs._ Cesare..._

But Cesare wasn't there. Anne clawed at the Baron's face, leaving deep, red scratches on his cheek. The Baron growled and slapped her hard; Anne's head snapped to the side with such force that she thought her neck would break.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time, Anne Boleyn," the Baron whispered, running his tongue down her cheek.

Anne whimpered, and images of Henry forcing himself on her flashed through her mind. Instead of Henry's handsome face, however, she saw the Baron's wild eyes and the rough texture of his face.

The Baron made a move to thrust himself inside of her, but suddenly Anne could no longer feel his oppressive presence. She took in huge gulps of air, gasping.

"Are you alright, milady?"

Micheletto leaned over her, his face full of concern. Behind him Anne could hear the Baron locked in a scuffle with a figure in a black cloak.

Cesare.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Rage.

That was all Cesare felt as he saw the Baron force himself upon Anne..._his_ Anne.

His sister-in-law/lover was struggling vainly against the nobleman, her thighs exposed and her hair in an unruly halo. Cesare had wasted no time prying Baron Bonadeo away from Anne, snarling as the Baron hit the cobbled streets. Meanwhile, Micheletto had gone to Anne's side to see if she was alright; Anne was now grasping the folds of Micheletto's cloak tightly around her.

"Why are you so concerned with her welfare?" the Baron spat, drawing his sword. "She's a whore, nothing more."

"She's my brother's wife," Cesare replied, flicking the blade of his own sword against the Baron's. "And a Borgia. That fact alone should have stilled your incessant desire for her."

The Baron chuckled. "But you desire her as well, don't you, cardinal? Oh yes. I've seen how you look at her, how your eyes rest on those plump breasts of hers, those smooth thighs that conceal the gateway to heaven and pleasure. Why don't we take her? Your man will certainly warn us if your brother arrives."

Cesare's only response was to lunge at the Baron; their swords clashed madly, with Cesare dodging and blocking most of the Baron's thrusts. Even as the rain poured down in sheets, the two men were engaged in a deadly battle.

Thanks to Micheletto's guidance and training, Cesare managed to finally gain the upper hand and drive his sword through the Baron. Just before the nobleman died, Cesare leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"Unlike you, dear Baron, I do not share what is mine."

The Baron fell to the ground, dead, and it was only then when Cesare looked up to see Anne. Half of her face was in shadow, but the other half was bathed in moonlight. She looked so ethereal, like some magical being that had come to Earth. Cesare longed to lie with her, but he had work to do.

"I'll come for you," Cesare promised her, and instructed Micheletto to dispose of the Baron's body.

Cesare escorted Anne back to the papal palace, using several hidden passages so that they could avoid the prying eyes of the guards or, heaven forbid, Juan himself. Just before they reached the chambers

Anne shared with her husband, she turned around and kissed Cesare.

"The child is yours," she whispered, slipping inside the chamber before Cesare had a chance to react.

When the doors closed behind Anne, the full meaning of Anne's words hit Cesare like a bolt of lightning.

_Juan Georgio is my son?_ Cesare thought, walking away from Anne's chambers in a slight daze. _Mine?_

If that were the case, then Cesare was even more determined to have Anne - and his son.

_Brother or no, I will have my family. No matter what it takes. _


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

The death of Baron Bonadeo rocked the entire city. Despite a massive investigation, the perpetrators were never caught.

Juan Borgia smiled from behind his goblet as he heard the news; Anne sat beside him, sewing a new frock for little Juan.

"Well I must say, the news does not surprise me one bit," Juan declared, chewing on a juicy chicken leg. "The man was a known lecher who liked sleeping with other men's wives. I suspect the killer to be one of the aggrieved husbands."

"Indeed. Have you shared your sentiments with those investigating the murder?" Rodrigo asked.

Juan shook his head. "I do not care whether the killer is caught, Father. The Baron is no great loss to our city."

"Poor Ursula may think otherwise, my love," Anne reminded him gently.

"Ah yes. Your good friend. What has become of her?" Juan turned to face his wife, who was staring wistfully to one side.

"She has entered a nunnery. She says the world of men disgusts her." Anne lowered her eyes. In truth, Ursula had accused her of having her husband killed.

"I know he desired you, Anne. But did you have to have him killed? He was my husband!" Ursula had demanded, while Cesare had stood outside the room. "Why did you do it? I thought you were my friend!"

"I assure you, I had no part in this!" Anne had insisted, but Ursula had cursed her to live a wretched life and had nearly thrown Anne out of her house. Only Cesare's presence saved Anne from being humiliated, and Ursula shut her doors to Anne forever.

The loss of her dear friend was a huge blow to Anne, but she decided to let it go. There was nothing she could do about it, after all.

"Where is Cesare?" Lucrezia asked, taking a bite of her favorite pastry. "I haven't seen him this morning."

"He must be attending to some important papers," Rodrigo answered. "He'll join us eventually."

"I'm here," Cesare announced, stepping inside the room. "And I have been going through some papers. Legal ones."

"Whatever for?" Juan snorted. "Planning on defending the Baron's killer are you?"

Cesare's smile was icy. "No. I'm planning on getting your wife, Juan."

The room was still. Finally Rodrigo spoke.

"What is this nonsense? Cesare, remember you are wearing the robes of a cardinal. You cannot marry." Rodrigo set the chicken leg down on his plate, but Juan had slowly risen from his chair.

"She's mine," he hissed through clenched teeth. "She's my wife, the mother of my son!"

Anne turned her head towards Cesare, her eyes wide. The cardinal jerked his head slightly and stared at Juan in the eyes.

"Are you sure? I have it on good authority that your son is _mine_."

Juan snarled angrily and lunged at his brother over the table; wine spilled on the pure white tablecloth, mimicking bloodstains. Juan and Cesare grappled at each other on the floor, while Rodrigo tried in vain to pull the brothers apart.

Micheletto and several guards had to wrest the brothers apart, and even then Juan had managed to free himself from the guards' grasp and punch his brother in the face.

"You lie! The child is mine!" Juan shouted, his hair nearly covering his face. "She is my wife, brother! My property!"

At these words, Anne stood, her expression dark.

"I am not your property, Juan," she said softly. Juan's eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. "I am nobody's property, and I never will be!"

She then dropped her sewing on the ground and swept out of the room, eager to conceal the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Cesare and Juan both tried to follow her, but Rodrigo held them back. Lucrezia watched her sister-in-law leave, and then turned to her father.

Rodrigo nodded his head at his only daughter, silently telling her to see if Anne was alright. Once Lucrezia had left, Rodrigo had his sons released. Juan was about to attack Cesare again when Rodrigo whacked him on the head with his staff.

"Enough. Sit down," he said sharply, waiting for Juan to resume his seat. Rodrigo did the same to Cesare, and once both men were sitting down, Rodrigo lowered his staff. "Tell me what is going on."

Juan opened his mouth to speak, but Rodrigo silenced him with a glare. It was then when Cesare told the Holy Father all: from the secret meetings he and Anne had before she married Juan, to the revelation that he, and not Juan, was the father of the baby.

Once he was done, Juan looked murderous. Rodrigo, on the other hand, looked tired.

"That woman is more trouble than she's worth," he sighed. "With the furor in France because of Charles and his determination to rule Naples, I suppose now is the right time to send her there."

"Father-"

"That is not-"

"Silence!" Rodrigo pounded his fist on the table. "Anne Boleyn has caused trouble in England, and now she is sowing discord in our household. I will not have her here until we settle the conflict between the two of you."

"She is my wife," Juan insisted.

"But she is the mother of my child," Cesare argued.

Rodrigo rubbed his eyes. He saw now why Henry had her sent away; although she _was_ beautiful, it seemed to cause a lot of problems.

"Anne is Juan's wife, Cesare," the pope finally said. "I cannot give them a divorce on the grounds that she birthed your child. You may lay your claim as the father, but Anne still belongs to Juan."

Juan threw Cesare a triumphant look. Both brothers knew what the other was thinking: not only did Juan have control of the papal army, but he also had Anne. Two things that Cesare wanted more than anything else in the world, but would never have.

* * *

**Author's Note: Just a little poll (I know one reviewer mentioned it, but anyway..) for you guys: would you like to see Henry and Anne meet again? I have an idea on how it's going to happen, but I want to know what you guys think before I commit to it. :) Let me know! **


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

_Two years later_

Anne settled back on her seat, watching as Charles conferred with her sister-in-law, Lucrezia, and her father-in-law's mistress, Guilia Farnese.

Negotiations between the Borgias and the French king had finally reached its end, and it was mostly because of Anne's influence. Anne had been sent away from the Vatican after Cesare had revealed that he was the father of Juan Georgio, and the pope had tasked her to serve as the mediator between him and Charles.

During her stay in Charles's camp, Anne had also given birth to her second child, another boy. He was, without a doubt, the real son of Juan. She had named him Antonio Rodrigo, and Lucrezia and Giulia had come to camp not just to visit the pope's newest grandson, but also to verify that Charles intended to make peace with the Borgias.

Antonio was with his nanny, sleeping, but Juan Georgio (whom Anne had taken to call George) was playing by her feet. He had a set of wooden horses and soldiers, which his grandfather had sent him. Even now George was pretending to be a powerful Gonfaloniere like his father, and was instructing the horses and soldiers to various tactical positions.

"And the pope will allow me to rule Naples?" Charles studied Lucrezia over the rim of his goblet, and the blonde nodded primly.

"Of course, Your Majesty. Everything my dear Anne has told you is true, and my father will certainly uphold his end of the bargain."

Charles looked pleased to hear these words. "Then we are at peace."

Applause rose throughout the tent, and Anne smiled as Charles turned his head towards her.

"Mother," George said from his sitting position on the floor.

"Yes, my love?" Anne leaned forward and brushed the fine black hair away from her son's face. Even though he was only two, it was obvious that Cesare was his father. There was no trace of the boyish Juan in George's face; only the rough yet attractive features of the oldest Borgia son.

"Will Father come and see us now?" George looked at her hopefully and Anne picked him up and carried him in her arms. He was still clutching one of the wooden soldiers and he waved it in the air. "I miss him."

"I'm sure he will, my love. I'm sure he will." Anne kissed George on the cheek and stood. She excused herself from Charles's presence and walked out of the tent. Juan had come and visited her every so often, and he had been thrilled to learn that he had a son - a legitimate one. Cesare dropped by as well, but he didn't stay for long periods of time. He only stayed long enough to visit George (who knew him as "Uncle"), spend time with Anne, and make certain that she was well-protected.

Anne felt George rest his head on her shoulder and yawn; it was almost his bedtime. The air outside the tent was cool and nipped against her bare arms, but she loved the sensation.

She was still alive and she was the mother of two beautiful and strong boys. There was nothing that could spoil her mood - or her life.

Nothing.

"Anne?"

Anne's eyes widened and her heartbeat quickened.

That voice...she had never expected to hear it ever again in her life.

"Anne Boleyn."

Anne slowly turned on the spot, George in her arms, praying to God that she wouldn't see the person she knew she was about to see. Her eyes met his, and her blood ran cold.

Henry.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

Anne took a step back.

She hadn't expected to see Henry here, in the midst of Charles's camp. Although she knew that Henry had had a slight altercation with the previous French king, she hadn't imagined that he would come today, of all days.

"Still as lovely as ever," Henry commented, stepping out from the shadows.

Anne's eyes widened. Although Henry was still handsome, his body was rounder...healthier. She had carried the memory of a fit and athletic Henry Tudor in her mind, and the image of an aging king shocked her.

George murmured sleepily on her shoulder, and Henry's eyes rested on him. "Is he your son?"

"Yes," Anne answered, her voice breaking slightly.

_You won't touch him_, she thought desperately, placing a protective arm over her beloved son.

"Perhaps if I have waited..." Henry's voice trailed away wistfully, obviously thinking of the happier times that they had shared.

But those times were gone, especially in Anne's eyes. She had let go of all of her love for Henry and had given it to her two sons - and Cesare.

"Perhaps."

_But you didn't_, Anne thought bitterly.

Henry looked like he wanted to say more, but he was interrupted by the sound of horse hooves. Anne saw Juan alight from a chestnut horse.

"Anne." Juan took off his helmet and strode past Henry, whose expression had darkened.

"Juan," Anne said softly, grateful for his timely arrival. George stirred at the sound of Juan's voice, and he raised his head sleepily.

"Father," George called, and Juan smiled thinly at his nephew. The pope had instructed Juan not to reveal George's true parentage; regardless of who his father was in the Borgia family, George was the firstborn grandson of the pope, and thus the immediate heir to the Borgia wealth.

Juan ruffled George's hair and the child giggled. "I missed you Father!"

"And I've missed you both." Juan slid an arm around Anne's waist and pulled her closer to him. It was then when he noticed Henry standing a few feet from them. "Who are you?"

Henry bristled. "I should ask the same of you. Who the blazes are you?"

Juan smirked. "Only one person could be that tempestuous. Henry Tudor."

Henry's eyes narrowed, and for a moment the two men simply stared at each other. Anne leaned forward to whisper something in Juan's ear, but her husband clamped his hand on her wrist and pulled her away from the scene. He shouted orders at his men - who had all watched the unfolding drama with a keen interest - and ushered Anne into one of the side tents.

"Were you planning to meet with your former husband?" Juan demanded, ignoring George. The little boy squirmed in Anne's arms, and she set him down on the ground.

"No, Juan, I assure you I didn't know he would be here!" Anne laid a comforting hand on her husband's cheek, but he flinched. "I hate him, Juan. I admit that I still loved him when I first came to the Vatican, but now all I feel is hate and indifference. He cast me aside, just because I couldn't give him a son!"

Juan eyed her suspiciously, but Anne was earnest. Finally Juan nodded, believing her. George waddled over to Juan and wrapped his chubby arms around his "father's" leg. Juan looked down at the boy, resisting the urge to scream at him. Although Juan was once fond of George, the revelation that George was his older brother's son repelled him. Juan was only glad that he had a legitimate son - Antonio - with whom he could carry on his legacy.

_Bloodline be damned, Antonio, not George, will carry my mantle as Gonfaloniere of the papal army_, Juan decided fiercely, as he held his wife in his arms.

* * *

**Author's Note: Contrary to "popular" belief, I don't plan on having George and Antonio as rivals. There's too much of that going on already; let's have some brotherly love for once. ;) Some of the events in these chapters came from my lovely reviewers, and I don't claim ownership of them. They just gave me great ideas. :bd**


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Lucrezia shifted slightly in her seat as she watched the King of England openly ogle her sister-in-law.

The arrival of Henry Tudor was certainly unexpected, but as king of the most powerful European country - although Lucrezia was sure that Charles would disagree - Henry was used to doing whatever he wished.

Now he was sitting beside Charles (Juan was on the other side of the French king), discussing how they could best cement their alliance.

"But of course this alliance extends to the Borgias, does it not?" Charles inquired, turning his head towards Juan.

Juan chuckled mirthlessly and took a sip of wine. "But of course. The Holy Father is eager to extend his hand to any who accept and practice the faith."

"Is it true, general, that your wife follows the Protestant religion?" Henry suddenly cut in. Anne set her fork down and rested her hands on her lap. Lucrezia noticed this and clasped Anne's hand, giving her sister-in-law silent reassurance.

Lucrezia had grown fond of Anne, even though the woman had cuckolded her younger brother. But Lucrezia was never fond of Juan; she could understand why Anne had fallen for the dark and brooding Cesare.

_My brother would not stand for this_, Lucrezia thought, noticing that Anne's eyes were slightly moist.

"Sister," Lucrezia said in an undertone, and Anne turned her head to look at Lucrezia. "We may leave this table, if you wish."

Anne shook her head determinedly. "No. I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower before him."

Lucrezia could see Anne's jaw was set, and she nodded. That was another thing Lucrezia liked about Anne: she was strong. Admittedly Lucrezia first hated Anne, thinking that the older girl was trying to usurp her position in the Borgia household. But that changed when Anne had comforted her as Lucrezia grieved over her Paolo, and Anne had sworn to keep her secret.

From then on, Lucrezia and Anne were each others' staunch friends, and Ursula Bonadeo soon faded in the background.

"My wife has gladly converted to the Catholic religion," Juan answered testily. "After all, it was just another reminder of her painful past."

The words were aimed at Henry, who seemed to pick up on the reference. "What are you saying, Gonfaloniere?"

"I thought I made myself clear." Juan smirked at the expression on Henry's face. Anne knew that Henry was prone to violent outbursts of temper, and she waited for the explosion.

"I saved her life," Henry finally said through gritted teeth.

"Did you? I was under the impression that you were planning to have her beheaded. Her life was yours to command, Your Majesty. Had you jumped in between her neck and the executioner's blade, then you would have saved her life." Juan was clearly enjoying rattling the King, knowing that he, as Gonfaloniere, commanded the papal army and had the power to have the king excommunicated.

But Juan had forgotten that Henry did not care whether he was excommunicated or not. Anne did, and she slid a restraining arm on her husband's wrist.

"Juan," she whispered, and her husband turned to stare at her.

She smiled coyly at him, which was a silent signal that told Juan that his wife had more pressing urges.

"The meal was delicious, Charles," Juan said, rising from his chair. "But there are other...matters I must attend to."

He left the table, glancing at his wife as he went. Anne exchanged a meaningful look with Lucrezia, who understood what her brother and her sister-in-law were going to do. After a few minutes, Anne stood as well and excused herself.

Lucrezia fixed her gaze on the King of England. His eyes followed Anne as she made her way out of the tent.

"The English King still has eyes for our Anne," Giulia whispered in Lucrezia's ear.

"It seems so," Lucrezia agreed. "But I know my brother won't stand for it. Anne is ours now."

"Which brother? The older or the younger?"

"Both."


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Charles's retinue made its way to the papal city. It was composed of the king's entire army, his courtiers, and his closest advisers. The traveling party was made even larger by the presence of Juan (who had brought with him a good portion of the papal army) and Henry (who was traveling with Charles Brandon and their own retinue).

As expected, their progress was slow, but during their journey to the Vatican no one dared attack the massive force.

Anne, Lucrezia, and Giulia were given their own transport, closely guarded by several soldiers from the papal army. George, who was still a child when he traveled with his mother to Charles's camp, was awed by the sudden change in scenery. His younger brother, Antonio, was asleep most of the time, but the two brothers played with each other whenever Antonio was awake.

"Mother, will Antonio and I get our own rooms?" George asked, snuggling closer to Anne. "I can take care of my brother for you."

"You will, my love, but your younger brother will stay with me and your father for a while," Anne replied, kissing the top of George's head. "He is far too young to be away from me for long."

George looked disappointed, but then he shrugged. "When he grows older, then."

"Of course, my love. Anything for you." Anne smiled as George sighed happily.

Lucrezia was holding Antonio in her arms, no doubt thinking about her own son back in the papal palace. Giulia, who was looking out the window, was the first to see the structures of the papal city.

"We're home," she said softly, and the two other women looked thrilled.

As they entered the city, Anne could see that a huge crowd had gathered to welcome the French and English forces. Charles and Henry were impressed by the majesty of the Vatican, and both kings even exchanged a nod as they saw the pope standing with several of his cardinals.

Anne saw Cesare standing beside his father and their eyes met.

Her heart leapt in her chest and she longed to fall into his arms. But instead, she was ushered down one of the side hallways by Juan's men, and she held on to George's hand as they were led into their rooms.

Nothing had changed, save for the presence of Vanozza. She smiled thinly at her daughter-in-law (unlike Lucrezia, Vanozza could not fully forgive Anne for toying with both her son's affections) and turned to George, who rushed into his grandmother's arms.

While the women rested, Rodrigo, Cesare, Juan, Charles, and Henry all convened. Charles was adamant that he be given Naples, which Rodrigo readily gave.

"Whatever our dear Anne had told you, we will be more than happy to grant," Rodrigo said generously.

What he didn't tell Anne or Charles was that Naples had been plagued by the Neapolitan disease.

Charles looked pleased at this, and proclaimed that he need not stay in the Vatican any longer than necessary. Henry, on the other hand, took a little longer.

The King of England wanted to know if he still had the Church's backing if he took a fourth wife.

Rodrigo smiled. "But I thought you were your own church, Your Majesty?"

The pope was referring to the Anglican Church Henry had established when he couldn't receive the divorce he wanted from Catherine of Aragon. Henry's lips drew into a thin line, and he was clearly remembering the things he did just to marry Anne Boleyn.

"Yes, but of course it is always nice to-"

He was interrupted by the arrival of Anne, who was holding a crying Antonio in her arms. She curtsied as she passed Henry, but she never raised her eyes to his face. Instead, she went towards Juan, who looked surprised.

"Your son needs you," she said, not bothering to lower her voice. "We cannot calm him down."

Juan took Antonio in his arms, and the little boy hiccupped and buried his face in Juan's neck. Soon the boy's sobs subsided, and Juan patted Antonio's back.

"Forgive the interruption," Rodrigo said quickly. "Please, continue, Your Majesty."

Henry remained silent. How was it that Anne was able to bear two boys? When she was his wife, all she could give him was a daughter – a daughter who was now considered a bastard – and stillborns.

Now, although he did have the son that he sought, Prince Edward was growing into a sickly boy. Antonio and George looked like they were going to grow into strong and healthy boys.

Sons fit for a king, Henry thought.

"Father, it seems His Majesty is thinking," Cesare said in a stage whisper. Henry whipped his head towards the cardinal, who smirked at him.

"As I was saying," Henry said, prying his eyes from the domestic scene that was unfolding. "It would always be nice to get a second opinion."

"By all means, marry again," Rodrigo said amicably, throwing his arms wide. "You are King of England, Your Majesty. Surely by now you've learned that you can do anything you want."

Henry nodded. Anne was looking at him now, and he smiled at her. While once that face stared at him with such love, Henry could no longer detect any feeling for him. It was devoid of expression, of any emotion. And yet, when she turned towards Juan and her son, Anne's face was full of love.

"Of course," Henry agreed hesitantly. He didn't know why he didn't leave then, but perhaps it was because of the sight of Anne's new family that held him fast.

"Dear Anne," Rodrigo said, clearly aware of what held Henry's attention. "What say you to Henry taking a new wife?"

Anne turned from Juan, who slipped a possessive arm around her waist, and fixed her eyes on Henry's.

"I agree," she said coldly. "He must always be the most happy."

It was the first time in years since she said those words, those words that became known as her personal motto while she was Queen of England. Now, it served to sever her ties with Henry, a man she had once loved.

Henry seemed to pick up on that reference, for he nodded. Although he looked like he wanted to say something more, Anne's blank stare forced his feet and he left.

The moment the doors shut behind Henry, Anne sighed and leaned against Juan.

"Now that's over, let's eat," Rodrigo announced, standing. Cesare followed the pope, but not before winking at Anne.

"He's truly gone from your heart then," Juan said with satisfaction. Antonio was sleeping in his arms, and Juan carried the boy to the crib before joining the rest of the Borgias in the dining room.

"From my heart and from my life," Anne confirmed, settling beside Juan and George, who was bouncing about excitedly, talking to Lucrezia.

Rodrigo had the servants fill their wine goblets, and as one, the adult Borgias stood.

"To family," Rodrigo said with pride, and they all clinked their goblets together.

"To family!" they chorused.

* * *

**Author's Note: With this chapter, the events from Season One (well, the ones that I chose to use, that is) come to a close. When the next chapter is uploaded, the events take place several years later (again, I did not promise to follow the continuity of the television series, just the events and characters). See you then. ;) I know the last quote is from the second season, but it seemed to fit perfectly in this situation, so I used it anyway. :P**


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_Eight years later_

Eleven year old Juan Giorgio Borgia looked out over the Vatican. Behind him, his nine year old brother, Antonio Rodrigo Borgia, shifted uneasily as his tutor, Cardinal Sforza, taught him Latin.

Juan knew that his younger brother hated Latin like the plague. Their mother, however, was watching Antonio like an icy hawk from behind her sewing. Antonio had little to no chance of escaping his lessons.

"George, come here," Anne called, and Juan dutifully turned from the landscape and walked towards his mother. The years did nothing to mar Anne Borgia's beauty; in fact, she seemed to grow more beautiful every day. Juan saw the many admiring looks Anne drew from various noblemen, even though she was with her husband, the Gonfaloniere of the papal army (and Juan's namesake).

"Mother, it's Juan," Juan reminded her gently. Anne pursed her lips in a petulant pout.

"You will always be my little George," she whispered. Juan knew that he had been named after his uncle, George Boleyn, who died in England. "Now, what were you thinking of, my love?"

"I was wondering when Uncle Cesare would visit us," Juan admitted. "He hasn't visited us in a month."

"I'm sure he would come here if he could," Anne replied, her voice slightly breaking. "He has much to do with your grandfather."

Juan remained silent. He was aware that his mother and uncle loved each other very much (a fact that had been painfully revealed several years ago, when Juan interrupted a fight between his parents). It was very likely that his mother loved his uncle more than she loved his father, and there were times when Juan resented her for it.

In Juan's eyes, his father was a brave soldier and a devoted husband and father. How his mother could fail to see that was beyond his comprehension.

"Done!" Antonio announced, raising his arms in victory. "Mother, when will Father arrive from the Spanish court?"

"Soon," Anne replied, drawing her sewing needle through the cloth. "He told me he will be back just in time for our noonday meal."

Antonio grinned and bounced over to his older brother, who smiled at him fondly and drew him close. "Race you!"

Juan took off down the hall, followed by Antonio. Both boys laughed as they went, barely aware of their mother's shouts behind them. They raced up and down the hallways, the stairs, and into the courtyard. There, they saw their youngest and only sister, Anna Isabella, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the lawn.

Juan immediately skidded to a stop and approached his sister. Antonio, clearly disappointed that his brother had stopped paying attention to him, followed slowly.

"Good day, Anna," Juan greeted, smiling.

Anna looked up at him with her light blue eyes. "Good day, brother."

Anna had inherited their mother's dark beauty. Even though she was only six, she could easily rival the beauty of their mother's. Juan was extremely protective of her and the two of them did almost everything together. Antonio was close to Anna as well, but not like Juan and Anna.

"What are you doing?" Juan asked, sitting down beside her. Antonio pulled at several blades of grass and threw them at Juan's back.

"I'm waiting for Father," she explained softly, raising her head towards the two main doors. "He promised to give me a present when he returned."

"I'm sure he'll give you whatever you want," Juan assured her. "You have always been his favorite."

Juan said so without any resentment, although Antonio rolled his eyes at this. Anna beamed and lay back down on the grass. Juan was about to join her when Antonio tugged at his shirt, eager to continue their race.

Anna watched her brothers go, raising her eyes to the sky. She never moved, not until the large oak doors burst open and her father, Juan Borgia, stepped inside.

"Father!" Anna squealed, leaping to her feet and running towards him.

"Ah, my little Anna," Juan said, kneeling down and taking his daughter in his arms. "You grow more beautiful every day. Just like your mother."

Anna pressed a kiss to her father's cheek, which made him chuckle. It was then when she saw her Uncle Cesare standing behind her father, and she waved at him.

"Father, you didn't tell me Uncle Cesare was coming!" she cried, clearly pleased.

"He wanted it to be a surprise," Juan said, although he cast a disapproving glance at his older brother when Anna wasn't looking. "Where's your mother? And your brother?"

"I'm here," Anne said softly, gliding down the stairs. Behind her trailed Juan Giorgio and Antonio, the former looking extremely pleased to see Cesare. "This is a pleasant surprise, Cesare."

Both Juan and Juan Giorgio pursed their lips at this.


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Juan watched as his son – his legitimate son – dodged a sword thrust and delivered one of his own, taking his instructor by surprise. A few seconds later, Antonio managed to gain the upper hand and pin a man thirty years older than him against the wall.

"Well done!" Juan cried, raising his wine goblet at his son, who beamed at the praise. "You will make a fine Gonfaloniere someday."

"Would I? But I thought George would-"

Juan waved his hand impatiently, cutting his son off. "I decide who my successor shall be. And your brother does not have the appetite for warfare. I suspect he will become an artisan or a cardinal, like your uncle."

Antonio said nothing, but Juan could see that his son was thinking. With a knowing smile, Juan drained the wine from his goblet and stood. "Now, let's see how you fare against a true soldier."

Juan drew his sword, which he always kept sheathed to his side, and raised it. Antonio grinned and raised his own; the instructor stepped aside quietly. Father and son soon clashed swords; the metallic clang of their weapons drew several guards and Anne to the scene.

"Antonio!" Anna had joined her mother and cheered her older brother on. Antonio gripped the handle tightly and remembered the lessons his father and his instructor had taught him. Snapping his left hand to his back, he blocked his father's attacks.

Juan grinned as he saw his son remember his lessons: he had his arms close to his sides and was not letting anything, including his mother and sister, distract him. Finally he loosened for a second, allowing Antonio to defeat him.

Anna giggled with delight, while Anne smiled, the familiar smirk forming on her cherubic face.

"Well done, my love," Anne called, and Antonio turned at the sound of his mother's voice. "Both of you."

Juan tried not to look smug, but his feeling of euphoria vanished as he saw Cesare appear behind Anne. Their affair was becoming evident, and even the Pope was noticing. The rest of the Borgias, save for Lucrezia and Juan, were aware that Cesare and Anne met illicitly.

At first Juan had reacted violently, causing Anne to turn cold towards him. Even as he brought countless whores to their chamber, Anne had merely turned to Cesare for comfort.

For once in his life, Juan didn't know what to do. He loved Anne just as much as he hated her, but he hated his brother even more.

This hatred had been extended towards George, who was becoming a spitting image of Cesare. However, the boy never acknowledged that small detail; he fully believed himself to be Juan's son.

_Whatever makes the little bastard happy_, Juan thought darkly, turning to Antonio. His son was talking to Anna that he failed to notice his mother openly flirting with his uncle.

"What brings you here, brother?" Juan asked loudly, causing Antonio and Anna to stop their conversation and look towards the two adults. With a glance, Juan dismissed the rest of the guards so that the Borgias were alone.

"I came to tell you and Anne that the Holy Father wishes to celebrate," Cesare replied without batting an eye. "And that he wants to see us later tonight."

"I see." Juan turned to his wife, who met his gaze steadily. "I fear you might sleep alone, dearest."

"Mother will sleep with me!" Anna declared, running towards Anne. "Can she, Father?"

Juan softened slightly when his daughter fastened her eyes (which were so much like his) on him. "But of course."

Anna beamed and Antonio sheathed his sword. His attention was now distracted with the arrival of Giovanni, his older cousin, and George. The two boys were discussing something – literature, no doubt – but stopped when they saw Juan, Anne, and Cesare.

"George, Giovanni," Anne called, walking over to them. "Where have you been?"

"In the art gallery, Mother," George answered. "There is this young art apprentice who seems talented."

Anne placed a hand over her son's shoulder. "Try not to spend too much time there. You have other duties, don't you remember?"

George nodded. "I remember."

Anne kissed the top of George's head and smiled at Giovanni. The boys made their escape, followed by Anna and Antonio. Once the children were gone, Juan turned his eyes towards Cesare.

"Even now," Juan said, his gaze deadly.

"Does it surprise you?" Cesare smirked. "You know I love her."

"So do I. And I will never give her up."

"I don't think that is for you to decide."

"I am her husband!"

"And I am the man she loves."

"Enough." Anne stepped between the two men, who had been advancing towards each other with every sentence that they uttered. "Not here."

"Would you like to take this discussion to a more private setting?" Juan suggested bitingly.

Anne tilted her head. "Perhaps. I'm surprised you decided to address this little issue now, husband."

Juan opened his mouth to reply but thought better of it. Whatever Anne and Cesare did, Anne was his, damn it. His, body and soul.

Now if he could only have her heart…


	26. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

_My feelings for Juan have changed_, Anne thought sullenly.

_Years ago I thought I could love him, but now…_

Admittedly what was once an amicable marriage had now turned sour. After the birth of little Anna, Anne noticed a change in her husband. His arrogance had increased, his bursts of temper became more frequent, and he wanted to possess her every waking minute.

Cesare had told her that Juan was becoming unbalanced, but Anne had refused to believe it. Now she was rethinking her lapse in judgment. She had found it very easy to become a faithless wife, but Juan hadn't been the epitome of faithfulness, either.

"Anne, is something bothering you, sweet sister?" Lucrezia asked, looking up from her sewing. "Have you fought with my brother again?"

"No," Anne said, setting her sewing down. "I'm just becoming tired of his bursts of temper and possessiveness, Lucrezia."

"Juan?" Lucrezia guessed. Like Cesare, Lucrezia wasn't too fond of Juan. She wondered for the millionth time why Anne had agreed to marry Juan if she clearly loved Cesare. "He's impossible, isn't he?"

Anne's mouth formed a thin line and she nodded once. "But I admit that I loved him – once. Now he reminds me of Henry during one of his drunken rages. I just…"

"You want to be with Cesare," Lucrezia finished, laughing softly as she saw the surprised look on Anne's face. "Dear Anne, I've been your sister for years. I know all your secrets, and you know mine. Is it such a surprise to learn that I can guess what you're thinking?"

Anne laughed in spite of herself. "I love Cesare. More than words can say."

"If only the Holy Father would consent to divorce Juan," Lucrezia sighed. "But no. At least one Borgia must always be in the cloth. He would never let Cesare step down from being a cardinal."

"I know." Anne looked towards the window, where she could see George and Anna playing in the lawn. Giovanni was with them, his pale blonde hair catching the light. "They grow up so fast."

Lucrezia nodded. "Yes, they do."

Eight years of being a single mother had, like Anne, done nothing to tarnish Lucrezia's Borgia beauty. She was still highly sought after, but Rodrigo was holding out his daughter to a respectable family. At one point he had considered marrying Lucrezia off to Henry Tudor's young son, Edward, but after hearing reports that the boy was sickly, Rodrigo changed his mind.

"I wish to have strong grandchildren, not weaklings," Rodrigo had commented over supper, much to the amusement of Anne. "We shall wait, shall we not, my sweet?"

Now Lucrezia was waiting for a man who would sweep her off her feet and meet her father's approval. Unlike most women, Lucrezia wanted to marry for love. Her heart, however, belonged to the stable boy who was the father of her Giovanni.

Anne picked up her sewing and resumed once more, stopping only when Giulia Farnese entered. "Hello."

"Giulia," Lucrezia greeted, standing to kiss the older woman's cheeks. "You look rather pale."

Giulia remained silent, but smiled when Anne greeted her warmly. "I'm quite alright."

Lucrezia and Anne stole a glance. The two women knew that the Pope, in the absence of his mistress, had taken several women to his bedchambers. Giulia had had to leave to attend to the estate of her father, and she had been gone for more than a month…

"I know he has been unfaithful to me," Giulia finally whispered. She opened her palms and a ruby red stocking fell from between her thin fingers. "I saw this in our bed."

"He is a man, Giulia," Anne said, as if that explained everything. "He has a man's needs."

Giulia remained silent, but Anne could see her lips form a petulant pout. Anne wanted to tell the Italian beauty that the only way to get Rodrigo to notice her again was to flirt with another man, but something held her back.

_Perhaps that may not be the best advice_, she thought. _I did the same to Juan, and look where we are now. A marriage in shambles._


End file.
